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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Delicate Sound of Thunder

Work work work. Hint to all those who freelance, ask for a good price up front. I've found that the most egregious use of changes and revisions come when the price is too low. For the freelance work I think I'm really close to minimum wage now with the edits. Wasn't to far ahead of it to begin with.

Last night I did get some words out. I went through "A History of Lightning" and firmed up the copy. I connected a few pieces and amplified the language. Went on a furious hunt for "was", routing it out from deep in paragraphs and rewriting the sentences to make sure it would never come back in.

I think I have two more transitions to complete and it'll be at draft v1.1. I think my going through the earlier copy constituted a rewrite of what I had. Currently it's 3463 words. I have a feeling well end up in the 4500 word range.

Went to be very late last night, and couldn't sleep in too long this morning. So I'm back at it. Hope your Sunday is going to be productive too.

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